Ground Zero
by SpaceCowboyMedic
Summary: Jimmy story. Completed. Rated for language. There's the obvious dangers involved with the Third Watch, but what about the one's they can't detect?
1. Ground Zero - Chapter One

  
Disclaimer: I don't know any of the cast or crew of Third Watch. Nor do I eat with them, talk casually on the phone with them, and I certainly don't sleep with any of them. All rights, and some of the lefts, belong to whomever owns them. And if I forgot to mention something that should be in this disclaimer, pretend you read it and go read the story all ready.  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Ground Zero  
  
  
Chapter One  
**********  
August 15. 1336h.  
  
"You're taking the corner too sharp!"  
  
"Would you shut up and let me drive!"  
  
"We're gonna roll!........Shiiiiiiiiiiit!"  
  
The unmarked tanker pitched out of control, bouncing the occupants about the cab. It skidded down the onramp sparks flaring, finally coming to a stop on it's side.   
  
The driver tried frantically to free himself from the carnage. A jarring pain in his head and shoulders prevented him from getting very far. "Dave," he choked, noticing his partner scrambling for the passenger door. "Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm getting the hell outta Dodge!" he called over his shoulder, before jumping to the ground. "And I hope you do to."  
  
Then he started running; leaving the driver to his own demise.   
  
*********  
  
*Station 55, Station 24, Squad 45. MVA on 405 at Clarkeson Avenue onramp. 4-oh-5 onramp at Clarkeson Avenue. Tanker-truck overturned. Police have been dispatched. Time out 1346hours.*  
  
It was the third response of the day for the third watch at Station 55. The firefighters and paramedics had been trying to fill the last three hours with mind numbing, tedious cleaning when the tones had gone off again. They were more than eager to get out and do something else.   
  
Sirens blasting, the rescue vehicles raced toward the scene. As they neared the site, dispatch came back over the radio. "All stations responding with 24, be advised, possible spill. Cargo unknown."   
  
"Engine 55, 10-4," the Captain acknowledged. He turned back to Jimmy and the others riding behind the cab. "All right, girls," he called through the open window. "God has spoken. Suit up."   
  
In the ambulance responding, the Almighty had also been heard. Carlos looked at his partner with a grimace. "It never fails," he sighed. "Whenever it's hot and muggy, we get the worst calls."  
  
Doc understood all too well and threw his partner a not-so-amused look. Then he turned his attention back to driving. They were edging onto the Clarkeson onramp, and it didn't look pretty. Doc had to stop the squad mid-way, due to traffic congestion. Cars were gridlocked from one shoulder to the other. And the arriving media trucks weren't helping either.   
  
Doc sighed and shook his head. "Figures," he mumbled, pulling the keys from the ignition. Glancing through the windshield he saw, officer Davis weaving through the tangle of cars. He was wearing a mask, and didn't seem too happy about it.   
  
"Hey, guys," Davis called, removing his mask with obvious relief.  
  
Doc climbed out and waved. "What have we got down there?" he asked, hurrying to the side compartment on the squad.   
  
"The tanker's blocking all lanes onto the highway," explained Davis, helping to unload the equipment. "But of course all these morons figured they could squeeze through anyway. It's the same down there. The squad from 45 had to park about half a mile back on the road and walk in."  
  
Carlos came around the front of the squad ready to go. "What about the engines?" he asked. "How the hell are they supposed to get there?"  
  
"Hey, guys! We're gonna bring the engine 'round from the other side," the fire Captain interrupted, inadvertently answering Carlos' question as he approached the squad. "We're no good up here, so we're gonna go down and cross the boulevard. 24's already down there, so we better hurry."   
  
Doc swung the medkit onto his back and picked up a board. Carlos picked up his share and followed him down the road. Davis fell into step beside them, mumbling about it being a real mystery down at the scene.   
  
"How do you mean?" asked Carlos.  
  
"They have no idea what that tanker was carrying. They don't want us to take any chances, so they ordered the masks," replied the officer, placing the mask back up to his mouth. Then he quickly dropped it to his side in frustration. "I don't see why we have to wear them. I think the tanker was empty. They're just being overly cautious."  
  
"Did they check the manifest?" Doc asked.   
  
"They were trying to make sense of it, but I dunno. It says the tank is full, but there's nothing coming out the expulsion port that was damaged. They're calling the company to double check everything, but that's another bag of worms all together. Aside from the company name, the manifest was blank. The driver's name wasn't even on it."  
  
Carlos stopped in his tracks. "That can't be a good sign," he observed anxiously. "Maybe it was carrying a gas or something we just can't detect?"   
  
"Possibly. That's probably why HazMat ordered the masks. I guess I shouldn't complain, it might be saving my life," Davis laughed, examining the mask in his hands. "But I still think the tank was empty. Even gases have some sort of odour or something."  
  
"Not always," Doc replied under his breath. He didn't see the need to upset the officer with the ins and outs of dangerous chemicals. He and Carlos knew there were plenty of nasty, evil gases out there that could wreak havoc on a body without ever being detected. Doc decided it was time to don his own mask. So did Carlos.  
  
*********   
  
Station 24 had arrived first. They were busy dousing the large, silver tanker when Engine 55 joined them. So far no explosion had occurred. There were no signs of fire either, but with unknown cargo training dictated they proceed with caution.  
  
Phil and John, paramedics from 45, had already extricated the driver of the tanker and were diligently at work. Knowing they could handle it on their own, Doc and Carlos started looking in on the other cars. As they made their way closer to ground zero, the injuries degenerated.   
  
Doc stopped at a vehicle with a young man slumped over his wheel. The driver came to as he checked his vitals. He wasn't too badly injured, so he indicated to his partner to continue on through the wreckage.   
  
Carlos grabbed the radio heading off to the next vehicle. He met up with firefighter, Dave Sutters from 24, trying to calm a fragile old woman trapped in her car.   
  
"Hey, Dave, how's she doing?" asked Carlos, dropping the gear and leaning into the car.  
  
Sutter switched places with the paramedic, sharing a grim expression as he did. "She looks pretty bad, but she's trying to brave," he added with a whisper and nod. Then he noticed the mask still on Carlos' face. "We're pretty sure the tanker was empty, you can lose the mask now," he smiled.  
  
Carlos happily unstrapped his mask. He let it hang around his neck. "Did you find out what it was carrying?" he asked over his shoulder.  
  
"No, man," Sutters replied. "But there's still no evident leak. I think the worst of our problems is the car accident victims."  
  
"All right," responded Carlos, continuing with his examination. The victim was steeling herself not to cry, but it was painfully obvious that she was nervous. She was alone and trapped behind the steering wheel of her car.   
  
Carlos put a hand on her shoulder and related his deadpan greeting. "It's going to be all right. We're gonna get you outta here in a sec. Are you hurt anywhere? Can you move at all?"  
  
"My neck hurts," she replied, biting back tears and grabbing for Carlos' hand. "And my stomach. I can move, but it hurts so much.  
  
Noticing the approaching firefighters, Carlos started to pull away. They would need to get in there to hook up the Hurst, but the woman would have no part of it. He gently tried to free his hand, but the woman resisted. "Ma'am," he pleaded, rolling his eyes. "These men here are gonna get this steering wheel off you while I talk to the hospital, okay? I'm not going far."   
  
"Are you sure?" she asked, still not letting go. "You won't leave me here?"  
  
"Not going to happen, ma'am," he replied. Slowly the woman began to release her grip.   
  
Once the dashboard was peeled back, and Carlos had spoken to Morales at base, he returned to the car with the trauma box. The woman was anxiously awaiting his return. "You see," he said popping open the box. "I told you I wouldn't be gone long.".  
  
By the time she was ready to be extricated, Doc had arrived. Carlos had expected to ride in with his patient, but Doc and his were already waiting in the ambulance. Carlos arranged transport of his patient by another crew with a ambulatory, and decided to survey the scene more thoroughly for other victims. His elderly patient was stable, and although passing the buck to another crew wasn't exactly protocol, the scene seemed to be hopping, and he liked to be where things were hopping. Carlos liked to be in the heat of things, especially when young females could be around looking for a hero.  
  
Knowing where all the young femmes seemed to gather, he headed over to where Jimmy Doherty was examining the underside of the tanker truck.  
  
"Hey, check this out!" called the firefighter when he noticed the paramedic approaching.   
  
Carlos hurried over and crouched beside him. "So, it's a cable," he replied, disappointed by the less than substantial discovery. "There's lots of them on tankers like this. And as long as it's not leaking, I'm not too interested."   
  
"What? Are you like a girl or something? Don't you know anything about trucks?" Jimmy retorted, shaking his head. "This whole setup is weird. I've never seen cables coming from this part of a tanker before. And these extra tanks are questionable." He looked at Carlos with a frown, indicating a row of five large black tanks attached to the tanker's belly.   
  
Carlos, not being an expert in tankers, shrugged. "Maybe it's a new type?" he suggested, reaching over to touch the nozzle where the cable attached to one of the extra tanks. It was loose, and slid down the cable at his touch. He quickly retracted his hand and shot it under his armpit. It was a reflex action, like a child touching a hot stove. "Oops."  
  
Jimmy's breath caught in his throat. Then, realizing it hadn't caused any major catastrophe, he gave the paramedic a playful backhand. "Now look what you've gone and done."  
  
Carlos, bored by the lack of heroism in the situation, shrugged and sauntered off towards another car. This left Jimmy to examine the rig alone. He leaned in close and tried to put the piece Carlos had dislodged back in place.   
  
A few minutes later, a voice boomed behind him. "Doherty! Get over here!"   
  
The voice sent shivers down Jimmy's spine. He could recognize the District Chief's voice anywhere- he had the ability to turn the bravest man into a trembling child with a mere stare. And he was standing with his Captain over by 55's engine, and didn't look pleased.   
  
"Doherty?! What the hell are you doing over there without your mask?!" Harris, the Chief, reprimanded, as Jimmy closed the gap.  
.   
Jimmy stopped, did a double take back at the tanker. "I thought it was all clear?" he confessed, feeling a knot form in his stomach.   
  
"The all clear was given for the general area," interjected his Captain, calmly. "But we just want to be careful. There's still a bit of confusion here."   
  
"Um," Jimmy continued, the knot tightening. "Is there something I should be worried about?"  
  
"No, no. The tanker is empty; as far as we can tell. But the manifest says something different." His Captain showed Jimmy the clipboard. "According to this it should be full."  
  
"But it would be nice to have confirmation," replied Harris. "When dispatch called the company, they said it was a wrong number. There isn't even a damn record of a Charlie's Chemicals registered anywhere."  
  
Jimmy frowned. "Charlie's Chemicals? What kind of lame-ass name is that?"  
  
"You're guess is as good as mine," replied his Captain. "But I'd also like to know why the cab was so clean. No papers, no business cards; not even fast food containers or a coffee cup. The driver didn't even have identification on him. The police are all over this. You see Bosco? I think he has an erection."  
  
*********  
  
When engine 55 arrived back at the station, Jimmy found two of the paramedics sitting around the TV drinking coffee. He sauntered over and swung at the back of Carlos' recliner, playfully knocking forward. "Any left?" he asked, heading to the coffee maker.  
  
"Nope," replied Doc, answering for his recovering partner, and smiling as he took a sip from his own cup. "All gone. You gotta be fast around here."  
  
Jimmy, mid stride, swung his leg around and headed back to the living room. "Some of us actually work around here," he replied sardonically. "Kind of busy with a situation."   
  
"That's what you get for taking so long," grinned Carlos, putting his mug on the table so he could wipe at the spill on his uniform. "So, what did take you so long? You guys stop for lunch or something?"   
  
The remark grated Jimmy the wrong way. A sudden inexplicable animosity towards Carlos coursed through his veins. "Yeah, whatever, buddy! There's no load and go with us, we actually have to finish the scene. Is that a problem?!" .  
  
The station was used to Jimmy's taunting towards the paramedics, but this time it seemed different. They had been around long enough to distinguish his innuendoes from jokes, but right now, Jimmy apparently didn't recognize the difference. He was genuinely angry. No one wanted to spark it further, so they kept their mouths closed.   
  
Jimmy drew in a deep breath, looked around the room. "Are the showers free?"  
  
Before Doc replied, he glanced at the others in the room apprehensively. "All clear," he informed slowly, turning his gaze to Jimmy. "Some of us apparently don't work hard enough to require a shower."  
  
Jimmy laughed and turned away. At the base of the stairs, he turned back and pointed at Doc on the couch. "I'm going to clean up. And hey, dinner's on me tonight. Making my specialty- Pizza a la Doherty."   
  
"What the hell was that ?" asked Carlos, when Jimmy disappeared.  
  
"I have no idea," replied Doc. "Talk about your non-sequitors."   
  
*********  
  
Kim and Bobby, the last of replacement crews to leave the scene, arrived at the station just before dinner. With the work load being so overwhelming, the earlier crews had been relieved and cleared. They re-stocked the rig and caught up with everyone in the kitchen. "Did you guys hear what happened?" Bobby asked excitedly, interrupting Jimmy at the stove and throwing his stethoscope on the table.   
  
"When?" prompted Carlos, cutting into the conversation from the recliner.   
  
"At that MVA on the onramp," Bobby replied, directing his attention to Jimmy and the other firefighters. "After you guys left, these huge trucks arrived to remove the tanker."  
  
"What's so special about that?" asked Jimmy, trying to push past Bobby to get to his ingredients for pizza.   
  
Bobby grabbed his shoulder and gently spun him around. "No, man. These weren't just any trucks." He leaned back against the counter with a grin. He told them, in great detail, about the two trucks that arrived after the other crews had been cleared. About the eery *carbon copied* men who accompanied these strange trucks. He paused only to pose, and flex his muscles in order to stress the shear size of the men.   
  
"So they were big," shrugged Jimmy, not easily impressed.  
  
"Seriously, Jimmy, these guys were intimidating," added Kim, picking at the pizza ready to go into the oven. "Even Chief Harris had a hard time dealing with them."   
  
Jimmy shuddered at the image. "So, what happened?" he asked, finally intrigued   
  
"I don't know specifics, but apparently they had orders to take over clean up. We were ordered to vacate the area immediately. Even the engines that came in after you had to leave."   
  
"And?!" pushed Carlos, when Bobby and Kim were no longer forthcoming with information.   
  
"And- we left."  
  
"That's it? You just left?" repeated Carlos, shaking his head.   
  
Bobby nodded. Kim popped a left over mushroom into her mouth.   
  
Carlos sagged, took in a deep breath. "You build up this great story and you just end it with, we left? Great story, guys. Glad I caught it."   
  
"Hey," Kim replied. "Don't you think it's weird they told us to leave?" She raised her eyebrows, playing it up like an espionage game. "Oooh, strange men and their toys. Let's clear away the rescue workers." She wiggled her fingers before her face like she was entering the Twilight Zone.   
  
The fire Captain, sitting at the table, caught Kim's comment. He glanced at her over his newspaper. "They had authorization from Headquarters to clean up. That's why you were told to leave." He returned his gaze to his paper, but kept talking. "Harris called it into dispatch and got their papers confirmed, so it doesn't really matter now. No harm was done. He called me afterwards."  
  
"I don't know, Cap. That whole scene seemed pretty fishy to me," Bobby said.  
  
The Captain threw everyone a warning glance. "Would ya just drop it. I already heard enough about it from Harris. And he was pissed off enough for everyone."  
  
  
*********  
  
August 16 0516h. Clarkeson onramp.  
  
The street lights, one mile east and west of the ramp on the 405, flickered out simultaneously. A large convoy of trucks, jeeps, and other vehicles hidden in the darkness, inched their way forward. They did not want to be seen. They did not want to be heard. Their job was to rectify a situation that should not have happened. It was to be another catastrophe swept under the rug.  
  
The first vehicle of the convoy, a LAV 25 Reconnaisance, slowed to a stop half a mile into it's perimeter on the darkened highway. All other vehicles, in a centipede fashion, did like wise.   
  
The crew commander of the LAV, and Officer in Command of the clean-up, gazed out over the horizon. He nodded to his driver, and they disembarked from the light armored vehicle. Together they walked a few steps ahead of the LAV. The OC conducted the situation assessment, while his driver watched him worriedly.  
  
The sun had started to rise, casting dim light on the semi-deserted highway; ominous shadows giving away their position.  
  
"Damn," the crew commander muttered under his breath. "We're too late."  
  
"Sir, we can't leave this like-" started the driver, his face paling.  
  
"We have no choice, private," the crew commander said, brusquely turning back to the LAV. When he reached the armored vehicle he paused and closed his eyes in prayer. "The poor bastards."   
  
Ten minutes later, the convoy was moving at a regular pace down the highway. Radio silence had been ordered. The mission postponed.  
  
The street lights came back on. The convoy broke up so it didn't seem so suspicious, just a jeep or tank transferring from one base to another. Nothing spectacular. It was as if they had never been there.  
  
*********  
  
*Author's Note: No mushrooms were injured during the making of this segment. Well, some did, but they deserved it- they were really nasty to the pepperoni and had it coming.  
  



	2. Ground Zero - Chapter Two

Ground Zero  
  
  
Chapter Two  
**********  
  
August 18. O659h. Station 55.  
  
Kim tossed her equipment on the table and slipped out of her civilian shirt to replace it with uniform. She didn't even have a chance to say hello to her awaiting partner before he was on her case.   
  
"You better get on that phone right away!" Bobby fumed, jabbing a finger towards her chest. "If Jimmy calls back one more time I'm gonna personally go over there and strangle him with his damn phone cord!"  
  
"Oh? It's his day off? One of us had to take Joey to the dentist, my mom was busy," replied Kim, stunned by the unexpected greeting. She furrowed her brow and scrutinized her partner. "Did Jimmy called here for me? I hope nothing's wrong."  
  
"Seven times in the last half hour!" seethed Bobby. "Seven times."  
  
*********  
  
August 18. 1205h. Hospital. Dr. Morales' office.  
  
Morales was finishing some paper work in her office when a nurse poked her head in. "Doctor," she said, breaking Morales' concentration. "There's a couple of pretty determined men out here trying to kidnap that John Doe from the tanker accident. I called security, but I thought you'd want to talk to them yourself."  
  
"What? Are you serious?," replied the doctor, pushing back her chair. She didn't know what this was about, but she sure as hell wanted to find out. No one *kidnapped* a patient of hers.  
  
They reached the room just in time. One security officer was already nursing a bleeding lip. The other was up against the wall, a gun to his throat.   
  
"What's going on in here!?" Morales demanded, eyeing the crowd of soldiers littering her patient's room. The nurse had mentioned men, not men in uniform, so Morales was a little more than stunned to see an army in her patient's room.   
  
Smiling, a distinguished man in a suit patted one of his henchmen on the shoulder. "Carry on," he ordered. "I'll talk to the nice doctor and explain what's happening."  
  
Morales took a step further into the room. "Before you do that, could you ask your goon to release the guard?!"  
  
The man nodded and the guard was quickly released. Then he smiled, patronizing the doctor. "Hello, Doctor- Morales?" he asked, reading the name tag on the her medical jacket. "My name is Jeff Withers."  
  
Morales shook the man's hand reluctantly. Surprised by the amount of pressure the man employed in the shake, she rubbed her hand to get the circulation moving again. "I'm Head of the Emergency Department here. What the hell is going on? And tell me why I shouldn't be calling the police right now?"   
  
"That won't be necessary," started the man, slowly pulling papers from inside his jacket. "I'm sure these papers will explain everything."   
  
Morales read over the papers, casting a glance at the man every few seconds. When finished, she folded up the papers and stepped out of the way. She reached for the phone on the wall and made a call to hospital management. A minute later she turned back to the soldiers. "I guess he's all yours," she sighed helplessly. "I'll make sure you have all his medical records. But you'll have to wait for the blood work up. It'll take a few hours to get them back from the lab."  
  
"That won't be necessary," informed Jeff Withers with a placating wave. "Our doctor's could probably have them faster." Then he headed out the door, his own army of medical doctors trailing the patient on a gurney.  
  
The nurse started to say something, but Morales held out her hand, shaking her head somberly. "Not now. Definitely not now."   
  
*********  
  
August 18. 1205h. Station 55.  
  
"He didn't say anything. He just asked for you and hung up," Bobby explained with frustration.   
  
Kim had tried to call Jimmy back several times over the morning, but there had been no answer. Seven times was a little obsessive, and she was starting to get worried. Jimmy was with Joey today, and she didn't need to hear something was wrong with her kid. Subconsciously, she prayed something was wrong with Jimmy instead.   
  
"He kept calling, even after I told him your shift didn't start for another half hour. Which, by the way, he knows, doesn't he?"   
  
"Maybe he just forgot?" Kim suggested, in defense of her ex-husband.  
  
"Seven times, Kim? One time he didn't even speak. He just hung up when I answered the phone!"  
  
"Really? Are you're sure it was him then?"  
  
"Yes, I'm pretty sure."  
  
"So, what exactly did he say?"   
  
"I told you," answered Bobby irritably. "He just asked for you."  
  
"Did he sound upset?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"And he didn't say what it was about?"  
  
"Kim, babe," replied Bobby, rolling his eyes. "I love ya and all, but would you please stop with the interrogation. I know you're going to try and call him back again, so why don't you just go and do it."   
  
Kim winced. "Sorry," she apologized. "I'll try and reach him again."  
  
"You do that," sniped Bobby, tired of having spent this long in a conversation concerning Jimmy. It was ten minutes he knew he would never get back.  
  
Kim sat down next to the phone and dialed her ex-husband's number. When she put the receiver to her ear she was greeted by the busy signal. She hung up and tried again.   
  
Another busy signal.   
  
She tried again, and once again got the busy signal. That was when she noticed her partner standing over her shoulder.  
  
"Kim, did you get a hold of him?" Now that he had time to calm down, the implications of Jimmy's phone calls began to worry him as well. As much as the guy irritated him, Jimmy did have a kid with Kim, and for all he knew the call could have been concerning Joey.  
  
Kim glanced at her partner, shaking her head.   
  
*********   
  
August 19. 0245h. Clarkeson overpass.  
  
All day Kim had not been able to reach Jimmy over the phone. Around 1am she had given up and headed for the squad- dragging Bobby along with her and going mobile. He had waited in the ambulance listening for calls while she had gone in to check on Jimmy and her son.  
  
She had found her ex-husband sitting in the middle of his apartment, most of his possessions strewn about the living room. Jimmy had seemed completely at ease with the mess, but he lacked an explanation. He also couldn't remember why he had called her in the first place.  
  
Kim knew something was wrong, and pushed the topic of Joey. But Jimmy reassured her everything was all right, and together they checked on their son sound asleep in Jimmy's bed. Feeling better about that, she had tried to talk to him about what was wrong, but Jimmy wasn't being very attentive. He had been preoccupied with inconsequential matters, constantly throwing the conversation off track.   
  
It had been a frustrating hour, but eventually Kim had to leave. She couldn't spend the entire evening baby-sitting her ex-husband. She convinced herself he was all right. It was nothing a good night's sleep couldn't fix. And since she couldn't see anything physically wrong with him, she reluctantly left.  
  
But she didn't get very far- annoying her partner even more with her incessant ramblings concerning Jimmy.   
  
Half way back to the station, Bobby had pulled over to the side of the road. He needed to clear his head, so he decided to kick Kim out and make her take a walk until she had other things to talk about. Because, honestly, he was getting pretty sick of hearing about Jimmy.   
  
Kim got out, and strolled across the overpass just ahead of the ambulance- the headlights turned off to give her privacy. When she reached the middle of the overpass she stopped. Leaning over the guardrail, she glanced down on the highway beneath. It was deserted.  
  
"Jimmy," she said aloud. "Why is it you still have the ability to do this to me?"   
  
Kim glanced at her watch. She hadn't realized how late it was. Her shift ended in just a few hours. She needed to go home and get some rest, but he knew sleep wouldn't come. Grasping the handrail, she leaned back and closed her eyes. When she opened them-  
  
Blackness.  
  
"What the he..."  
  
Kim was standing in complete darkness. All the streetlights had flickered off. She couldn't even see the ambulance parked a few meters down the road. She figured Bobby would have turned the ambulance back on, to give her light, then realized he must have his closed his eyes- trying to get back a few moments of lost sleep she had caused him tonight.   
  
Then she heard it. A low rumbling, gradually growing louder.   
  
She ran to the other side of the overpass, searching down the highway for the sound. Dark shadows were moving beneath her.   
  
Kim swallowed hard. "Oh my God." She turned and made her way back to the ambulance as Bobby was rolling down his window. "What the hell is happening?" she called, nearing the vehicle.  
  
Bobby leaned out the window. "Who turned out the lights?" He opened the door and climbed out, reaching back to grab the portable radio. "I opened my eyes to see where you were, and I couldn't see anything."  
  
"I know!" cried Kim, grabbing her partner by the arm and dragging him over the overpass. "Something's going on down on the highway," she continued. As they pulled up to the guardrail where she had previously been standing, Kim pointed to the dark shadows below. "Are those what I think I they are?" she asked quietly, a hand to her mouth.  
  
Bobby knelt down and squinted into the abyss below. He pulled Kim down beside him, an uncomfortable feeling building in his stomach. "They look military," he said with a raised eyebrow. "What the hell are they doing here? And why the hell did they turn off all the lights?"  
  
Kim stuck her head between the concrete beams to get a better look. "Maybe they didn't turn them off?" she suggested, although she didn't believe it.  
  
"I'm calling dispatch," stated Bobby, sitting with his back to the guardrail. But voices from below made him pause and take another look over his shoulder. "What's going on? What are they saying?"   
  
Kim pulled her head back in. "I think they said something about hoses? I'm not sure."  
  
Bobby keyed the handset of his radio, fumbling in the dark to see. "Oh, I'm definitely calling dispatch now."  
  
Several minutes later, Bobby and Kim were pulling the ambulance off the overpass- lights off, in stealth mode. "They seriously said back away and let the police handle it," replied Bobby, watching his sideview mirrors carefully.  
  
Kim shifted in her seat. "So, are they coming?"  
  
"I don't know, they just said return to the station."  
  
"And?" prompted his partner.  
  
"And," Bobby said, turning the vehicle around. "I'm returning us to the station. We can go across to the police station and see if anyone there knows what's going on."  
  
Kim nodded to her partner and didn't push the subject any further. And later that night, they both went to bed with no further information. The precinct had told them exactly what dispatch had- return to the station.  
  
*********  
  
August 20. 0700h. Station 55.  
  
Jimmy swung his vehicle into a parking space and climbed out. He ignored Bobby pulling in beside him and continued into the station.   
  
In the bunk room, Bobby found the firefighter sitting on the bench at the end of his bed. Jimmy had his head buried in his hands- looking tired as hell. Bobby had been anticipating ripping into him about the previous night- and how he caused him to go without sleep, and how he was sick of Kim coming to his preverbal rescue, but Jimmy didn't seem right.  
  
Bobby paused before approaching. He looked around, they were alone. Reverting his gaze back to the firefighter, Bobby ran his tongue across his lips. Something was telling him, maybe his instincts, that he was only going to be asking for trouble he didn't need if he charged in on the guy.   
  
"Can I join you?" Bobby asked, taking a seat next to him, his tirade on the back burner for the moment.   
  
"No," Jimmy stated flatly.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because misery and happiness are mortal enemies," he replied cryptically, not looking up from the floor.  
  
"What the hell does that mean?"  
  
"It means I'm pissed off right now. And if you sit your cheerful ass down next to me, I'll most likely beat the crap outta ya."  
  
Bobby stood up brusquely. "You know what, Jimmy? That's just great. You keep up this mood, and we'll see how many friends you still have at the end of the day. I was going to rag you out for the other day, but you know what, it's not worth it. Just don't drag Kim down into your problems- what ever they may be!" He grabbed his uniform and headed into the showers. When he was cleaned and changed, he went straight to the kitchen, hoping to by-pass Jimmy in the bunk room.   
  
But Jimmy was already there sitting with Carlos and a few other firefighters at the kitchen table. Averting his nemesis, Bobby made a beeline for the coffee on the counter.   
.   
"How ya doing, Carlos?" Jimmy asked cheerfully.  
  
"Be careful how you answer that," sniped Bobby from across the kitchen. "He might bite your head off!"   
  
Carlos looked at Jimmy skeptically. Deciding it was safe to answer, he replied carefully, "I'm fine. How are you?"   
  
"Pretty good."  
  
Carlos shrugged, looked over at Bobby. "He seems fine to me," he reported. "What's gotten into you this morning?"  
  
"Yeah," added Jimmy. "What's up with you? What's with that rampage in the locker room?"   
  
"Me!" cried Bobby, slamming his mug on the counter. "What's up with me?! You're the one with the attitude, buddy!"  
  
"I'm in a perfectly good mood."   
  
*Station 55, man trapped on roof. 14 Houston Avenue, cross street Bellingham. One four Houston Avenue, cross street Bellingham. Time out, 0844hrs.*  
  
Bobby was steaming as he followed Jimmy down into the bay. He knew now was not the time, but later, definitely later. Right now he didn't even want to look at him. And even more, he didn't want to bring it up with his partner Kim. The last thing he needed was to be bombarded by her ramblings concerning Jimmy. They drove to the rescue in complete silence. Not even a peep about the situation on the overpass the other night.   
  
*********  
  
*Author's Note: The roles of the mysterious military men on the highway were played by extras not deemed worthy enough to have their names mentioned in the credits. They're taking it up with their agents, but we're hoping for a peaceful settlement.  
  
  



	3. Ground Zero - Chapter Three

Ground Zero  
  
Chapter Three  
***********  
  
  
"Doherty! Doherty! Wake up!"  
  
Jimmy shook his head, snapping back to reality. He looked across the lawn towards the voice. His Captain, hands braced firmly on his hips, was standing beside the house.   
  
"Huh, what?" Jimmy stammered, taking a step across the lawn.  
  
"I said, hurry up with the stokes!" The Captain sounded more frustrated with Jimmy at each passing minute. He had already pulled him off the roof for not paying attention to the medics. And now this.   
  
Jimmy adjusted his helmet, standing like a deer caught in the headlights, the stokes basket firm in his grip. Every part of him told him to get over there, but his muscles weren't listening to reason. In his mind he was arguing with himself, trying to urge himself forward, but the process wouldn't let him do two things at once. It was like his muscles wouldn't work if his mind was.  
  
Then the world seemed to phase in and out. It didn't shift. It didn't tilt. It just didn't seem real for one split moment in time. And as abruptly as it had occurred, it ended, and Jimmy was left standing on the lawn short of breath. His hand gripping the stokes started to cramp, causing Jimmy to put it down. He massaged the soreness, trying to relax the muscles, but to little avail.  
  
Looking at his hand, Jimmy noticed it was shaking. He grabbed it with his other hand and took a deep breath. A moment later the cramping ceased, so Jimmy picked the stokes back up- carrying it in his other hand for safety. He had no idea what had caused the momentary lapse in control, but he hadn't liked it.   
  
He had to snap out of it, what *it* was. He convinced himself it was lack of sleep and took a step forward. Feeling secure on his feet, he took another step, then ran across the lawn to the side of the house.  
  
The Captain had returned to the base of the ladder leading up to the roof. "Guys!" he called. "He's coming! Jimmy just got a little lost finding the engine!"  
  
"Lost?!" cried Jimmy, coming around the corner. "Whatta ya mean lost? I'm here."   
  
The Captain glared. "Just get it up to them!" he ordered, losing his patience.   
  
Several minutes later, the man was en route to the hospital with nothing more than a twisted ankle. Jimmy helped clean up the equipment, then jumped into the back of the engine and took a seat next to Lombardo.  
  
The firefighter looked at Jimmy concerned. "Why was the Captain yelling at you back there?" he asked.   
  
"Who knows," huffed Jimmy, slamming his helmet on the floor. He was fuming, his head spinning. He was so angry he couldn't think straight. "He'll find any reason to yell at me!"  
  
"Hey, Jimmy. That's not fair. The Captain doesn't just yell at someone for nothing. If he was yelling at you, chances are you did something to deserve it."  
  
Jimmy drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down. His adrenaline was pumping so hard he was shaking again. "Oh, I screwed up! I didn't get the stokes to you fast enough! Shoot me! The man's gonna die cause I didn't get the stokes to you in two seconds flat!"  
  
Lombardo banged a fist on the window. "You know what?! I don't think I want to talk to you anymore!"   
  
"That's fine with me, buddy!"   
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
Silence.   
  
The rest of the cab inhabitants didn't get involved, but Jimmy had wanted them to. He felt like he wanted a fight. He wanted to lash out and hit something. There was so much pent up energy inside him, he didn't know what else to do with it. He felt like he was walking a tightrope between too much adrenaline and not enough sleep.   
  
Suddenly, Jimmy felt something vague and uncomfortable manifesting in the pit of his stomach. Then it began to hurt. He glanced at the others in the cab, all their eyes reverting everywhere but on him.   
  
Jimmy reached a hand inside his turnout jacket and clutched his stomach with a grimace. The pain was intense; a combined stabbing and tearing in the upper region of his abdomen. He fought back the urge to double over and assume the fetal position on the floor of the cab with every breath. When it began to subside, he let his hand come out from under the jakcet, and rested his head against the window with his eyes closed.   
  
*********  
  
Station 55.  
  
Kim sat down at the table between Bobby and Lombardo. "Where's Jimmy?" she asked, picking a banana from the bowl.  
  
"He's talking to the Captain," Lombardo replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.   
  
"Oh yeah?" asked Bobby, tilting his chair back off his front legs.   
  
"The Cap's pretty steamed at him. You should've heard Jimmy on the ride back! Psycho like even." Lombardo circled his ear with his finger.   
  
"Jimmy's been in a bad mood all day," sighed Bobby. "It's about time someone said something to him."  
  
"He's been fine with me today," shrugged Kim, biting into her fruit.  
  
"He seemed fine to me too," added Lombardo. "Until the ride back. Man, that guy needs some anger management classes. What's gotten into him lately?" he asked, directing his attention to the ex-wife at the table.  
  
Bobby leaned over the table before Kim could reply. "He was completely ignoring me on the roof today. And he just blew up at me when we first arrived this morning. I don't even know what I did?"  
  
Kim couldn't understand what was going on. Lately, Jimmy had been snapping at anyone who had the displeasure of being within range. Then the next minute he was your best friend. And his physical behavior was odd as well. The images of Jimmy sitting amongst the carnage of his apartment the other night came screaming into her mind. But the barrage halted when loud voices boomed from the bay downstairs.   
  
The entire station raced for the stairs and pole, eagerly vying for a good viewing position amongst the argument brewing downstairs. Jimmy and the Captain were screaming at each other, and it was a frightening sight. The subordinate looked on the verge of losing control. And the Captain was so rigid you could smack a two by four across his back, and the board would break.   
  
"I don't give a damn, Doherty!" the Captain yelled, arms folded angrily across his chest.   
  
"You know what your problem is, Captain?!" Jimmy growled, stabbing a finger at the other man's chest.  
  
The Captain knocked the hand away, stepping back. "My problem right now is you, Jimmy! What the hell has gotten into you?! You're losing it!"  
  
Kim noticed the sudden tension in Jimmy's right arm. Jimmy's hand had balled into a fist. She dove for him, restraining the firefighter just in time. Bobby and Lombardo rushed in to help hold him back. It took all three to contain him. He was screaming, trying to struggle free.   
  
Another firefighter went straight for the Captain, but was pushed him away- his angered stare with Jimmy not wanting to be broken. "Get him out of here!" The Captain ordered sternly, not breaking eye contact. "Get out of here, Doherty! Go home! I don't want to see you till your next shift! And if your attitude hasn't changed by then- Don't come back at all!"  
  
The bay grew absolutely still.   
  
When his co-workers started to release their grip, Jimmy shrugged them off vehemently. He pushed past Lombardo and Bobby and headed towards the back door.   
  
The Captain turned away and stormed back into his office.  
  
*********  
  
"Jimmy!" Kim called, crossing the parking lot.   
  
Jimmy waved his hand over his head and kept walking.   
  
"Jimmy! What's the matter with you? You realize what you almost did?" Kim asked, catching up to him at his car.  
  
Jimmy squinted, pressing his thumbs into his eyes. Slowly he took a deep breath. "I know, Kim. I don't know what came over me- I just couldn't stop myself."  
  
Kim noticed that Jimmy was shaking. "Maybe you shouldn't drive right now? Maybe you don't have to leave? If you apologize..."  
  
"No, Kim. I should go. I'll be fine." Jimmy stepped back and reached for the door handle. "I almost hit the Captain. I definitely should leave."  
  
Kim lowered her head, but kept her eyes on Jimmy. "What's gotten into you lately? Talk to me. Maybe I can help? This isn't like you."  
  
Jimmy shook his head and climbed behind the wheel. "I don't know, Kim," he replied quietly. "Maybe I need to take a little time off to clear my head. I just can't think straight lately." He closed his door and started up the engine. Leaning out his window he looked at his ex-wife. "I'm sure it won't make a difference, but could you tell the Captain I'm sorry."  
  
Kim nodded and watched him pull out of the parking lot. She closed her eyes and braced her hands on her hips. For some reason, she felt letting him drive away had been a big mistake. Stamping her foot on the concrete, she turned to head back in, cursing Jimmy's stubbornness and inability to ask for help.  
  
*********  
  
August 20. 1700h. EMERG.  
  
"Would you just calm down, Bill!"  
  
"Let go of me ass hole!"  
  
"I said relax, Bill. No one is going to hurt you!"  
  
A nurse came into the hall when she heard the commotion. Two police officers were struggling to restrain one of their own. "What's going on here?" she asked, trying to take control of the situation.  
  
"He cut his hand on some glass during an arrest," stammered Bosco, trying to restrain the irate officer.   
  
"He won't let... he won't..." added Yokas, having trouble concentrating on her speech since the officer was throwing his body against her in an effort to break free.   
  
Finally, Bosco and Yokas were able to press him up against the wall, holding him there with force. "He won't let us help him," she continued, catching her breath. "He's been struggling the whole way here. And he's been acting real strange."  
  
"I thought we'd have to cuff him," stated Bosco, holding the cop's head against the wall.   
  
"No," replied Yokas with a frown. "You *wanted* to cuff him. Get it straight."  
  
"Whatever," sniped Bosco, giving the restrained officer a nudge against the wall. "What the hell's gotten into him? It's like he's on crack or something? He's uncontrollable."  
  
"I'll get a doctor here immediately," offered the nurse. "Take him into treatment room one."   
  
Just as the nurse turned her back, the cop broke free. He bolted down the hallway, skidding on the linoleum where three big security guards blocked his path. His feet slid out from under him as he tried to change directions. Bosco and Yokas jumped on him immediately.   
  
"Get off me!" Bill screamed. "I'll fucking kill you if you don't let go of me!"   
*********  
  
August 20. 2322h. Station 55.   
  
Kim padded into the kitchen, stopping short when she noticed the Captain asleep on the couch- the TV playing softly. Not wanting to disturb him, she tiptoed towards the fridge.  
  
The Captain's voice broke the silence. "Couldn't sleep either?" .  
  
Kim turned, startled. "Uh...yeah..."  
  
He sat up on the couch, making a seat for the paramedic.   
  
Kim joined him and sat down gingerly. She had been dreading this conversation, but knew it was inevitable. Jimmy was in trouble, and people would turn to her since he was never one to advocate needing help. Kim also felt somewhat responsible. Not for Jimmy's actions, but for his well being. They were divorced, but she like to think they still looked out for one another. They watched each other's back. But whatever had crept up on Jimmy, had completely blindsided Kim. She felt guilty for not seeing it coming.  
  
"He's sorry, you know?" she began nervously.  
  
"Forget it. Just forget it." The Captain leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. "What's done is done. I just want to know what to do now? I- I don't know what to think?"  
  
"I'd like to help, Captain, but I don't know what's gotten into him either. I can't think of anything that could be causing this aggression. I'm mean, it's Jimmy. He's harder to read than Shakespeare sometimes. I should know, I was married to him and I still can't figure him out sometimes."  
  
The Captain regarded her carefully. "Causing what exactly? What's wrong with him? How 'bout his personal life? You see him on his off days with Joey, is something going on there I should be aware of?"  
  
"Nothi- " Kim's voice trailed off. A notice on the bulletin board distracting her. She frowned.  
  
The Captain followed her gaze. Kim was staring at a newspaper clipping depicting the accident on the Clarkeson onramp. "What? What is it?"  
  
There was something about the article, but Kim couldn't put her finger on it. She rolled it around her brain, hoping the pieces would fall into place. That scene kept popping up everywhere; the original call, the other night on the overpass with Bobby, and now the article. She got up from the couch and headed across the room. She pulled the article from the board, brandishing in front of her for the Captain to see.   
  
"What exactly do you know about this accident?" she asked, the article crumpling under her grip.  
  
The Captain scratched his chin contemplatively. "Not much, really. Why?"  
  
Kim turned the article in her hands to stare at the picture of highway- without any rescue crews or over turned tankers. Why hadn't the media used a photo of the scene? Kim looked up at the Captain. "I'm thinking maybe we should know more," she said, eyebrows raised.  
  
*********  
  
*Author's Note: We're sorry to report a few feelings were hurt during the making of this segment. Several apples in the fruit bowl felt shamefully neglected when Kim choose the banana over any of them. But we turned them into a pie; so they ain't complaining now.  
  



	4. Ground Zero - Chapter Four

Ground Zero  
  
Chapter Four  
**********  
  
August 21. 0745. Hospital Cafeteria.   
  
Morales followed Doc across the floor carrying a tray of sandwiches and coffee. He choose a table and pulled out a seat for the doctor and his live-in girlfriend. Ever since her patient had been escorted out of the hospital, Doc had been dying to know more. She had mentioned this and that at home, but not enough to satisfy him. And with what Kim had told everyone at the station this morning about her suspicions with the Clarkeson accident, Doc started in on Morales immediately. "The Chief Medical Officer of the U.S Army authorized his transfer? Are you sure?"   
  
Morales passed him a sandwich, nodding her head. "That's right," she replied in a conspiratory whisper. "That's what the papers said. He was being transferred to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington DC."  
  
"That's the big military hospital isn't it?" asked Doc, reaching for the sugar. "Who was he?"  
  
Morales regarded him evenly. "Let's not turn this into a soap opera," she said. "He's no longer our responsibility."  
  
But Doc had a way of getting what he wanted; even from the hardnosed Morales. He gave her one of his don't- mess-with-a- man-on-a-mission looks, and grabbed her hand.   
  
Morales surrendered under his touch.  
  
"His name was Mark Anderson. The papers didn't say much about his affiliations. Just that he was to be transferred, no questions asked." Morales took a bite of her sandwich and grabbed a napkin. "But what I'd really like to talk about is that police officer, Bill Roberts, that came in yesterday. He had the exact same symptoms as Mr. Mysterio, and I can't figure out what's causing them. His colleagues weren't much help- and neither is the officer for that matter."   
  
Doc shook his head sighing. "The one you told me Bosco and Yokas brought in? The one all freaked out?"  
  
"Well now he's the complete opposite. He's practically paralyzed!" Morales didn't mean to raise her voice in frustration, but she couldn't help it. It had been a difficult last few days. The hospital had been dealing with mysterious people and symptoms, and no one seemed to have any answers. "There has to be a connection between these two people," she queried, taking a sip of her coffee.   
  
"Hey," Doc tightened his grip. "You said the officers were pulling his duty logs. They might find something there."   
  
"Hello," chimed Carlos, sidling up to the table. Doc and Morales nodded, suspending their conversation, and mimed an offer to join them.   
  
"No, that's all right," replied Carlos with a smile. "I just came to tell you the blood work's in now."  
  
"The police officer's?" asked Morales, throwing Doc a glance.  
  
"Yup, that's the one," Carlos replied, reaching for the sandwich in from of his partner. "Heard them talking about it in the emerge. Just thought you'd like to know."  
  
Morales pushed her seat out from the table. "Thanks, Carlos," she said. Then she nodded at Doc. "You coming?"  
  
"Right behind you."   
  
*********  
  
August 21. 0825h. Jimmy's apartment.   
  
Jimmy heard his alarm blaring. He lay on his back, willing it to turn off. That was all he could do. For some reason his muscles weren't receiving the messages his brain was sending. He couldn't move.  
  
It had taken him almost five minutes just to get his arm off his forehead. And the effort had been exhausting. His body felt like it hadn't slept in weeks. His muscles were too tired to move, so he lay there. Still. His mind screaming for relief. And answers.  
  
But he knew he couldn't just lie there. He had to get up. And fortunately, he now recognized the need for help.   
  
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on his task: getting to the phone. But every time he tried to concentrate, his mind would wander. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't move. And he was beginning to panic. It also didn't help that the pain in his stomach had returned with a vengeance.  
  
*The phone. The phone. I need to get to the... Where's Kim?... I need gas in my car... No! The phone!... The right side of an isosceles triangle... No! I need to get to the phone! * His sub-conscious was battling the conscious, and winning.   
  
Summoning all the control he could, which wasn't much, Jimmy threw his right shoulder over trying to gain some momentum to roll over. He landed on his side, staring at the phone on his bedside table. It was just a few inches away, taunting him. 'Come and get me Jimmy. Just reach out and touch someone- '   
  
*Shut up! Just shut up! I'll get you!...Just give me a sec.'*   
  
Finally he was able to get his hand up to the table. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the phone, pulling it slowly towards the edge It was an impossibly long, exhausting process. Each movement a pained effort. He had to stop and rest every few seconds. *Come on, Jimmy. You can do this, it's only a phone. You've lifted heavier things than this before.*   
  
With one final effort, he pulled the phone off the table. It landed with a crash on the pillow beside his face. He took in a deep breath. He wanted desperately to give up. To go to sleep. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself to fall asleep.   
  
He would have called 911, but couldn't remember how to dial the number. Only his ex-wife's was obvious in his mind. He began dialing, his finger limp, weak and trembling. His eyes kept closing. He had to force them to stay open.  
  
Jimmy rolled his head as close to the receiver as he could. After a few rings someone answered  
  
"Kim- " he said, his voice barely audible.  
  
"Hello?" asked a voice that did not belong to Kim.  
  
"Kim- "  
  
"Jimmy? Is that you?"  
  
There was no response. "Jimmy is that you? Are you all right? This is Kim's mother. I'm watching Joey today. Jimmy? Is everything all right?"  
  
"Kim- "  
  
Kim's mother was sure that she recognized the voice. With her heart racing she continued calling into the phone. But Jimmy wasn't answering any more. "Jimmy, I'm going to get help. I'm gonna go next door and use their phone. Don't hang up. Can you hear me? Jimmy?!"  
  
Slow labored breaths was the only response.  
  
*********   
  
August 21. 0855h. Station 55.  
  
"Kim! Phone call!" called Bobby, his voice carrying through the station.  
  
Kim closed her locker and rushed to the kitchen. She was hoping it was Jimmy, but when she picked up the receiver she recognized her mother's voice.  
  
"Mom... all right, calm down..." Kim urged, throwing Bobby a concerned look. Her partner remained close by.  
  
"Okay, okay, slow down," continued Kim. "Start at the beginning. Uh huh. Are you sure it's Jimmy?... He's still on the line?... Okay... Go home and stay on the line with him. Keep talking to him... Yeah, C-shift is just coming in now, but I'll follow them over. All right... I'm leaving right now." Kim hung up the receiver, quickly heading into the bay.   
  
Bobby followed.   
  
*********  
  
August 21 1000h. Dr.Morales' office.  
  
Kim was wearing a hole in the doctor's rug pacing back and forth. It was driving Bobby crazy. He couldn't take it any longer. "Kim. Sit down."  
  
Kim stopped midstep and stared at her partner.  
  
"That's an order." Bobby patted the chair beside him, waving her over. "We're all worried, but pacing isn't going to help. The Dr.Morales will be here as soon as she can."  
  
Kim reluctantly took the seat and sank back into the leather. She leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Oh man," she sighed, closing her eyes. "He looked so helpless lying there. Why..."  
  
"Don't even start with the why's or what if's. They won't do any good now," interrupted Bobby. "Besides, this is Jimmy were talking about here. The man of a thousand lives."  
  
Kim let out a soft laugh, but her heart wasn't in it. Her ex-husband was damn near paralyzed and she couldn't do anything about it. Jimmy was in the hands of the doctor's at the hospital now, whom she trusted wholeheartedly, but she couldn't help but worry. And of course wonder how this had all happened.   
  
Morales had briefed them when Jimmy had come in, but it wasn't encouraging. She had mentioned a possible cause, but had wanted to make sure before saying anything further. Now Kim and Bobby were waiting impatiently for the news in her office.   
  
Morales hadn't been specific, but Kim suspected that whatever was affecting Jimmy was somehow linked to the tanker accident on the Clarkeson. She had wanted to speak her suspicions, but right now she was more interested in Jimmy's well being. She was also hoping for some other explanation. Actually, she was praying there was some other explanation, because the Clarkeson incident just reeked of all things dangerous and deadly.   
  
Doc and Carlos had been in the emerge when they had arrived, and had taken up phone duty in the interim. They called the rest of the third watch at station 55, and Kim's mother before joining them in the office. So now they were all waiting.  
  
After an eternity, Morales finally came into her office. Everyone bolted upright in their chairs, but the doctor silenced them before they could say anything "Are any of you familiar with Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?" asked Morales, dropping a folder on her desk as she took a seat.  
  
Doc paled. His eyes darting around the room. "You're joking? You're kidding, right? This is some sort of a joke?"  
  
Morales pursed her lips into a straight line. "I'm afraid not. It's definitely in his system."  
  
"No!" Kim took a calming breath, putting her emotions in check. "There has to be a mistake... Try again."  
  
"Wait. Hold on one second here," said Bobby, waving his hands. "Does someone wanna explain this to the laymen? What exactly is Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?"  
  
Morales raised her eyebrows at Doc. "Do you want to explain this, or shall I?"  
  
"It's a banned substance," Doc started slowly, circling the room. "It's used in the military... Or at least it was supposed to be used in the military. It's an odorless, tasteless gas created for combat situations. The UN banned it's use at the Geneva Convention."  
  
"So why the hell is it in Jimmy?" demanded Kim, her face flush.  
  
"I'm afraid he's not the only victim," replied Morales. "A police officer was brought in with the same symptoms. And I'm pretty sure there was another one too."  
  
"But will Jimmy be all right?" urged Kim, unable to stay in her seat any longer. She leaned over Morales' desk, planting her hands in the middle with diffidence. "Tell me there is something you can do? Some sort of antidote? Something. Anything!"  
  
Morales sighed. "I'm afraid not."  
  
"The only way to stop it's effects, is with a pre-emptive drug," added Doc. He crossed the office, joining Kim at the desk. "But from what I remember, it's not deadly. Just...just...bad. Very, very bad."   
  
"But it could be chronic," supplemented Morales. "It depends on exposure time. But from the amount in his system, I'm leaning towards an acute case. The Police Officer is another story though."  
  
"What officer?" asked Bobby.  
  
"Bill Roberts. He was brought in the other day in the same situation. You know him?"   
  
Bobby nodded.  
  
"He was around the scene of a tanker accident the other day," informed Carlos.  
  
"That must have been ground zero," nodded Morales. "I was able to read over some of Robert's logs and came across that tanker accident. And Jimmy's arrival today verifies my suspicions. That tanker was carrying one helluva gas."  
  
Kim could feel the hair rise on the back of her neck. "The tanker was supposed to be empty. What the hell is going on here?"  
  
Morales drew in a breath, looked at everyone evenly. "I bet my life that tanker wasn't empty. At least not before the accident. I heard all about this Charlie's Chemicals from Officer's Bosco and Yokas. Add in patient transfers signed by the CMO of the US Army and banned gases, and I'd say we got ourselves a true life, guenuine conspiracy."  
  
Everyone was silent. There were too many questions to be asked. Too many loose ends. But first and foremost on their minds was Jimmy.   
  
Morales pulled some papers from her folder, passing them across his desk. "From what I know, this gas has a low vapor pressure, it doesn't evaporate fast. It also has a specific gravity of less than 1, so it sinks to the ground. That's probably why they were affected first. But I'd bet my life others will be coming in soon. Here, or at other hospitals."  
  
"Does Jimmy know about all this? Has someone explained this to him yet?" asked Kim.   
  
"Right now, I don't think he'd understand," replied Morales somberly. "He's pretty out of it. We had to sedate him to keep him calm. A man could go crazy in the state he's in. His body is mostly paralyzed. Yet, his brain irrational, working overtime. And compound on top of that the hostility the chemical inhibits on it's victims."  
  
"So, what do we do now?" asked Bobby, suddenly finding the floor at his feet fascinating.  
  
"We wait," replied Morales. "It will, hopefully, eventually run through his system and then we'll take it from there."  
  
"Oh shit," murmmed Carlos, his eyes wide. "I was near that tanker."  
  
Everyone in the room stared him, unsure what to day. Morales was the first to speak up. "You should get checked out," she ordered, not wanting any delays. "How long were you there?"  
  
Carlos closed his eyes, trying to remember the day. "Only for a minute or so. I went over-" he paused and let his head fall forward. "I went over to see Jimmy. I was only there briefly. Oh god. I broke a piece of the tanker." Carlos looked up at everyone with an expression not usually worn on him; compassion. "I left Jimmy there to fix it."  
  
Morales came out from around her desk and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get you checked out," she said.   
  
Carlos rose from his seat, searching Kim's eyes for some sort of understanding. "I swear I didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to break it. The piece was so small. It was just a ring. It... it didn't even seem important."  
  
Kim drew in a deep breath, ran a hand down her face. "The damage was probably already done before we got there, Carlos," she replied, thinning her lips into a weak smile. "Now go and get checked out."  
  
When they had left, Doc knelt beside her and rested a hand on her knee. "I know Carlos can be-"  
  
Kim raised a hand to silence him. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I don't blame him. Honestly. The wheels were in motion when the tanker flipped over. Really, don't let him fret about this. Let's just hope Jimmy is going to be all right. And that Carlos' tests are clean."  
  
Doc nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Let's all hope."  
  
*********  
  
Later that day Carlos had been cleared by the blood tests, and Jimmy had been moved into a room with Bill Roberts so they could be monitored closely. Morales allowed visitation, but only one at a time and with her present. Kim went first, while everyone waited in the hallway.  
  
Jimmy was awake when Kim and Morales entered, but Bill was still fast asleep. Kim crossed the room quietly, leaned over the bed. "How ya feeling?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, her tears hidden. It was hard looking at Jimmy this way, and it was beginning to become all too regular.   
  
Jimmy didn't move. Kim watched as he blinked slowly, fighting the knot forming in her throat. The tubes and monitors Kim could handle. But the obvious fear in Jimmy's eyes was just way too much reality for her to handle.  
  
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. "My head feels like a frozen pineapple," he mused, refusing to show that fear.  
  
"That will go away," smiled Morales. "Just give it time to run through your system."  
  
"What? What's running through my system?" asked Jimmy, slowly turning his head. It felt very heavy. The movement sent sharp pains through his skull. "Ow..."  
  
"Berkelium Tetra-chlorine," informed Morales. "It's a neurodevelopmental inhibitor which effects the sensory, motor and cognitive functions."  
  
"You're talking to someone who feels like a vegetable, doc. Can you put that in simpler terms?" It was hard enough for Jimmy to focus on the people in the room, he didn't need the added complication of trying to rehash all his chemical training from the Academy.  
  
"That's just about it, Jimmy," explaind Kim. "The gas temporally paralyzes you, but your brain functions start working overtime. You start acting irrationally- Which would explain a few things these past few days."  
  
Jimmy's eyes lit up despite the obvious pain. "Temporary? You said this is temporary? I'm gonna be all right?"  
  
"It looks that way," grinned Morales, giving the firefighter's leg a pat. "You'll just have to suffer through it for awhile."  
  
Jimmy let out a long sigh. It was the only form of release he could manage.  
  
"You see, the gas was produced to use in crowd control," explained Morales. "Only it proved too potent. The military quickly took advantage of it because the applications were too hard for them to resist. It's supposed to be infused into drinking water or soil, but you got it from vapors." She paused, throwing Kim a frown. "I did some research with a friend at the military hospital in Washington."  
  
"Ah," responded Kim, swallowing the lump. "You probably know more about the stuff than the fire department now. The Captain's calling the government now, trying to obtain more information. But I have a feeling they aren't going to be all that forthcoming."  
  
"Well just as long as I'm all right, that's all I care about right now," grinned Jimmy, putting up a brave front. But underneath he was a nervous wreck. He wasn't sure when he would feel safe again.   
  
"You're not the only one, Jimmy." Morales gave Kim a sidelong glance. "You have a roommate. Officer Roberts was brought in too. He's in the bed next to you."  
  
"I'd look over, but I haven't got the strength," replied Jimmy. "How's he doing?"  
  
"He was affected a little more than you due to longer exposure. But he's going to be all right." Morales gave Kim a pat on the shoulder and nodded towards the door. "We should let him rest now. You can come back later."  
  
"You know, I bet he's enjoying this," Kim kidded, smiling at her ex-husband. "Having all those nurses waiting on him hand and foot."  
  
Morales smiled, but Jimmy just closed his eyes. For a brief moment, Kim pleaded with the doctor to give them a moment of privacy. Relenting, the doctor left them alone.  
  
Kim closed the distance between the door and the bed. Gently, she cradled his hand in hers. Jimmy lacked the strength to hold on, but Kim refused to let go. And she couldn't help the tears welling in her eyes.  
  
"How's Joey?" asked Jimmy, running his tongue across his dry lips. "Is he here?"  
  
Kim nodded and turned away. "Yeah, he's downstairs with my mother. I didn't tell him everything. I don't know if he'd understand." She paused, and tightened her grip. "You have to stop doing this you know?"  
  
Jimmy closed his eyes. "Doing what?" he asked.  
  
"Getting yourself hurt. I can't keep living like this," she replied. "And neither can Joey."  
  
"What are you saying?" whispered Jimmy. "I don't ask for this."  
  
Kim smiled weakly. "No. No you don't, Jimmy. But neither do I." She gave his hand an extra squeeze before releasing it and placing it on the bed. Then she turned and left the room.   
  
*********  
  
Doctor's Lounge. One hour later.  
  
Kim and Morales met up with Doc, Bobby, Carlos and the fire Captain to discuss what further action to take. They had learned five other cases had been reported at surrounding hospitals: two firefighters, one cop and two civilians. But the military was denying any involvement. And one firefighter, Peter Hunt, was quickly slipping. He had not reacted well with the gas.   
  
"They can't flat out deny they had something to do with this!" barked Bobby. "We saw them at the site right after it happened!"  
  
"And I know what we saw on the highway that morning," added Kim, giving her partner a knowing look.   
  
By now, they had all shared their personal experiences and information with each other. Everyone was up to date. But all their evidence and urgings were proving futile.   
The military was standing firm on their position. They even denied the existence of Jeff Withers, suggesting he may have been an impostor and they would look into it. But the six people sitting around the table knew differently. And so did the victims.  
  
"So what do we do now?" asked Carlos, refilling everyone's mug with coffee. "We can't let them get away with this."  
  
"We gather as much possible evidence as we can," stated Kim defiantly. "Blood samples, photographs, letters of personal involvement."  
  
"I'll make a call into dispatch," offered the Captain. "They must have a recording of Harris calling in the papers to be confirmed."  
  
"Anything and everything will help," nodded Morales. "Then we'll make a frontal assault. We'll show them everything we've got. They can't cover this up."  
  
*********  
  
*Author's Note: Gas is bad. Okay, so it runs your car. But other gases, especially ones of the mysterious nature are bad. If you ever run into one, shake your fist at it and run in the other direction, cause like I said, gas is bad. Just ask Jimmy.  
  



	5. Ground Zero - Chapter Five

Ground Zero  
  
Chapter Five  
**********  
  
  
August 22. 0859h. Station 55. Day room.  
  
"Apparently they can cover this up," stated the Captain, slamming the phone down. He looked at the rest of third watch, sans Jimmy, sitting around the table. "Steve over at headquarters says they can't find the tape. Some how it's gone missing."  
  
"So, what do we do now?" asked Kim.  
  
"You're asking me? I've never done anything like this before."  
  
"That tape was important," voiced Doc. "It was our only clear cut evidence that they were there. Our letters can't stand on their own."  
  
*********  
  
August 22. 1000h. Hospital. Doherty and Robert's room.  
  
Jimmy rolled his head to the side, grinning at his roommate. Bill had woken up an hour after Kim and Morales' visit the other day, but was further behind in recovering. With nothing else to do they had done a lot of talking. They were also starting to get on each other's nerves.   
  
"Hey, Bill," Jimmy called, a crooked grin on his face.  
  
Bill slowly lolled his head to the side. "What is it now?" he sighed.  
  
"Watch this." Jimmy lifted his left arm and began waving it at the still paralyzed police officer. "Hahahahaha..."  
  
"Don't mock me, funny boy."  
  
*********  
  
August 25. 1300h. St. Clemmens Cemetery.  
  
Jimmy and Bill, recovered and free from the hospital and each others taunts, strolled through the landscaped garden. It was a typical, pleasant New York afternoon with the sun shining, a slight breeze ruffling the trees. Peter Hunt had died from complications due to the gas, and today was the first time since the funeral Jimmy and Bill had been able to visit alone. They felt a certain bond with the firefighter- especially Jimmy. An unfortunate one, but one they would never forget. They wanted to say a private good-bye now that it was over.  
  
They each had their own demons to face after the accident, but their physical recovery was a giant step in the right direction. Neither had been permantly damaged, and were both hoping to get back to work as soon as possible. But first, they had some unfinished business to attend to.  
  
They crouched beside the tombstone; each in his own way saying a silent prayer.  
  
Bill opened his eyes, searching Jimmy's face. "Did you know him?" he asked sofly.  
  
Jimmy shook his head. "Not really," he replied, laying the flowers they had brought on the soft soil. "I'd seen him before. You know, around scenes. But I never got to know him. But right now, that doesn't seem to matter."  
  
Bill reached out and ran his hand along the smooth stone. The sun beating down made it hot to touch, but Bill didn't mind. He kept his hand there. "I'm sure he was a great guy."  
  
"Actually," grinned Jimmy. "I heard he was a bit of an ass hole."  
  
Bill chuckled softly, retracting his hand. He played absently with the dirt at his feet. "Well, we don't have to remember him that way. You know what I mean."  
  
Jimmy nodded, pushing off the ground stiffly. "No we don't. Let's remember him as...as...as a man who died for..."  
  
"For what?" questioned Bill, his eyebrows raised. "His country?"  
  
"Yeah, maybe not a good idea." Jimmy thought about it a bit more and shook his head. "I guess we'll just have to remember him as an ass hole," he laughed. "I'm all out of ideas.".  
  
They knew it wasn't funny, but they couldn't help it. The situation was all too surreal to take seriously. "That's all you can come up with?" Bill said, slapping Jimmy on the shoulder and pushing back towards the road. "Come on, we have to be able to do better than that."   
*********  
  
August 30. 0330h. Station 55.  
  
Jimmy's first day back at work had gone well. Kim, and the rest of the shift, had watched him closely, looking for any indications that he wasn't quite ready yet. They were all too aware of Jimmy's tendencies to return to work prematurely. But nothing had stood out so far. And that night Kim went to bed with peace of mind. Jimmy was his old cocky, annoying self once again.  
  
But at 0330h, unbeknownst to Kim and the rest of the crew at the station, Jimmy was in the bay doing anything he could think of to delay sleep. Jimmy was in his turnout pants and T-shirt doing pushups between the engines. After the nightmares he had experienced the last few nights, he had decided he wasn't going to sleep ever again.   
  
He knew that was impossible, but he was willing to give it a try. Every time he went to sleep he dreamt he woke up paralyzed, suffocating in his coffin. He'd never been claustrophobic before, but he figured it was never too late to try something new.   
  
Remembering the images made him shudder. He jumped to his feet and began another set of jumping jacks. He was at thirty when he heard noise above him. Startled, he quickly, yet quietly, maneuvered around the engine and ducked up the stairs to the kitchen.   
  
A moment later Kim walked in rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had woken up and had gone to check on Jimmy and noticed his bunk empty. She had a feeling she would find him here. But she was surprised to find him wide awake, sweating, and all together too chipper.  
  
"Hey, Kim. What are you doing up?"  
  
"I... I just came to see where you went," she replied, joining him at the sink.  
  
Jimmy turned on the faucet, grabbed a glass and filled it. "Just getting some water. Why don't you go back to sleep, I think I can handle it. I am capable of getting a drink of water on my own. Self taught actually. The experts were amazed."  
  
Kim eyed him carefully. "Maybe I'll just have some water too."  
  
"Here have this," offered Jimmy, passing her the untouched glass.   
  
"Aren't you going to drink it?"  
  
"Me? No. Not thirsty." Jimmy started backing towards the door, stumbling over a chair in his retreat. "I'm going back to bed now... Got a big day planned for tomorrow. You know how it is... Gonna clean the garage..." When he finally reached the exit he paused, tried to say something, but changed his mind.  
  
Kim watched with concern as he disappeared around the corner. She changed her mind as well. Her earlier assumption had been wrong. Jimmy was not back to his old self. Kim started to put the glass away, but stopped. She looked over her shoulder puzzled. "Clean what garage? Jimmy, you don't have a garage?"   
  
*********  
  
After another shift of finding Jimmy unable to sleep, Kim decided to do something. She couldn't let Jimmy continue like this. He wasn't going out on his personal time, he was neglecting Joey, and through it all he denied any problems. That was Kim's first clue something was still wrong. And she had a feeling she knew what he needed.  
  
Jimmy needed closure. It was obvious to everyone now he was having a hard time coping' always restless, exhausted, and unnaturally subdued. It hadn't reflected in his work yet, but Kim didn't want to let it get to that. She had tried to talk to him, but trying only pushed him further away.   
  
The Captain had suggested a departmental psychologist, but Jimmy had refused. Doc had offered to arrange a group session, but that had only managed to tick Jimmy off more. He had even refused to delve into the mysterious and wondrous world of Carlos' eight-ball.  
  
Kim was at her ropes end with Jimmy. But she watched Oprah, she was familiar with the benefits of closure and she knew that's what he needed. Her only problem was trying to help Jimmy find it; have the whole Clarkeson accident flushed out so he could put it behind him. But even with the help of officers Sully, Davis, Bosco and Yokas, no one had been able to get any type of forgiveness from the military. Not even a Hallmark card.  
  
This pissed off Kim more than anything. And she finally decided to do something.   
  
Kim would contact every news source possible. If the military wasn't going to pay for what they did, then the public had a right to know what had happened. She would bring closure to Jimmy no matter what the consequences. So, she organized an impromptu meeting at the local bar, Second Alarm, for their next day off.   
  
Everyone, including Dr.Morales and the police officers, arrived on time. Everyone, that is, except Jimmy.  
  
*********  
  
Jimmy sauntered in a half an hour late. Refusing the beer Bosco offered, he took a seat at the table. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. Now and then someone would try drawing him into the conversation, but he shrugged them off or gave a one word answer.   
  
Jimmy sat quietly, observing his friends. No one seemed to notice his indifference to the discussion. He listened to everything being said, and kept up a detached front, but it was difficult. Every part of him wanted to scream; wanted to slam his fists on the table and make them all shut up. He didn't want to keep hearing about the incident. He didn't want people tip-toeing around him, walking on eggshells in his presence asking if he needed anything.   
  
Jimmy wanted to forget. And these people weren't letting him; trying to rehash it every time he was around. He didn't need the constant rememberance- he got enough of that on his own. It invaded his dreams, it continually possessed his subconscious, and work was the only escape he had. But the people of the third watch, albeit with good intentions, were only making the situation worse. And now they were dragging him into this- saying he needed closure. But he was beginning to think someone else needed closure more than him.   
  
He was about to get up when his eyes settled on Kim across the table. Jimmy had never seen her look so determined, not even when Joey was being born. He let his eyes circle the room. The Captain, Doc, Carlos, and even Bobby...they were all mirror images of Kim's testament.   
  
Guilt clawed at Jimmy. As much as he hated being there, he couldn't ignore one fact. They were doing this all for him. He didn't feel the need for this type of closure, but maybe they did. Maybe she did. He felt like he had been a burden long enough, and he didn't want to interfere with their healing. Didn't want to interfere with her healing. He had never realized how much his life still effected Kim's until now.   
  
She had been right back in the hospital. She hadn't asked for this either.   
  
Jimmy got up from the table without a word and headed for the bar. He returned with a fresh pitcher of beer. He started pouring out the glasses, ignoring the questioning looks. When he was done, he lifted his glass.  
  
"Im not sure where to begin, but saying thanks seems to be a good start. And... I'm sorry." Jimmy bowed his head. "I've been sitting here watching, and listening. And I realized how lucky I am. You guys are a great bunch of friends, and I've been acting like a real pain in the ass these last couple of days-"  
  
"Jimmy, you don't have to apologies..."  
  
"Captain, let me finish. I *have* been acting like an ass. I've been pissing around acting like a martyr, not telling you what's going on- causing you all to worry. That's not like me. I'm usually the first person to say what's on my mind. The person who confronts things head on. If this had happened to any of you, I would've been the first one to start the fight. But it was me. Me and Bill and Peter Hunt. And I'm going to learn to live with it. Just give me time, and let me do this my way. You're drowning me, and I can't breathe. I'm not saying forgive and forget, just accept and move on."  
  
The impact of Jimmy's words hung in the air. Bobby was the first to raise his own glass. "Here's to commencement. And hopefully, to a good night's sleep- for all of us."  
  
When they all finished drinking down their beer, Jimmy turned from the table and tucked in his chair. "There's just one more thing," he said, putting on his jacket. "I really appreciate what you're all doing for me, but I don't think I can be around. When you need me, you know where to find me. But I don't want to be involved in all the little details. I need space. So you guys carry on without me. I've got a date with my bed right now."  
  
Kim smiled. "Hey, Jimmy. If you need any help, you know where to find us."  
  
Jimmy glanced at her across the table. "I'll try and remember how to ask," he said, turning for the door.  
  
*********  
  
At the beginning of their next shift, Kim was pacing the locker room. Jimmy was going to be late. He had ten minutes till roll call, which was cutting it pretty close. And Kim was starting to worry that Jimmy would not show up at all.   
  
Her fears were relinquished when the door swung open. Jimmy walked in, his shoulders hunched, face drawn out. Kim's stomach began to swim as her ex-husband slumped down on the bench at the end of his bed.   
  
Jimmy dropped his head into his hands and began sobbing.   
  
Kim sat next to him, unabashed surprise etched on her features. Over all these years, she had never seen Jimmy cry. "Hey, Jimmy, it's okay...You're gonna be all right."  
  
Kim was instantly enveloped in a tangle of arms. Jimmy wrapped himself around her torso, burying his head in his chest. "Oh, Kim... hold me."  
  
Kim realized Jimmy's sobs weren't sobs after all. They were childish giggles. She grabbed his arms and threw him off. "Get away from me!"  
  
Jimmy began laughing uncontrollably, clutching his stomach. "You should have seen the look on your face!"  
  
Kim put her foot on Jimmy's thigh and gave it a hard shove. He landed on the floor with a thud. But he continued to laugh anyway.   
  
Kim didn't think it was funny at all. "I hope your enjoying yourself! You have a real sick sense of humor you know?... That's right, laugh it up funny boy." But then she couldn't help herself. She started to laugh right along side her friend sprawled on the floor. "It's good to have ya back, Jimmy."  
  
The firefighter stopped laughing long enough to hear the words. He looked at Kim thoughtfully. "It's good to be back."  
  
*********   
  
*Author's Note: Nothing much to say here except- The End.   
  



End file.
